


Another Time

by ivyspinners



Category: Aurelia Ryder - Ilona Andrews, Kate Daniels - Ilona Andrews
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, five senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyspinners/pseuds/ivyspinners
Summary: She used to snatch glances at him out of the corner of her eye until she forgot herself.Five nights where Derek and Julie get to know the new versions of each other. It isn't easy to forget the old, but maybe they don't have to.
Relationships: Derek Gaunt/Julie Olsen
Comments: 18
Kudos: 48
Collections: Fandom Giftbox 2020





	Another Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NRGburst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NRGburst/gifts).



> Set some time during _Blood Heir_. This was written when 10 chapters had been released on the IA website, and as such diverges from canon afterwards.

Some days she didn't miss him at all, but they were growing fewer and far between.

**I. sight**

Julie hadn't been blinded by magic since she was thirteen years old. She wouldn't have survived the streets without learning control. Wandering around teary-eyed during every magic wave, vision flickering with distracting, multi-coloured sparks? Sucked for survival.

At some point Julie didn't remember, she had found that switch. She didn't--or at least, rarely--caught sight of magic where she didn't intend to look.

Sometimes, though, sometimes she couldn't help herself.

"What are you staring at?" asked the subject of her scrutiny. When she had been a teenager, in the months before she left Atlanta, Derek had grown increasingly uncomfortable whenever she stared at him. Had turned away and groped for another subject of conversation. Now, his hairs stood up on end. But he didn't move.

That soft inner thread of magic... she used to snatch glances at him out of the corner of her eye until she forgot herself, and the kind, scarred face flickered with muted yellow. Now his figure was rimmed a silver-green, eerie in the night's darkness. Julie had never seen such drastic change come without pain or sacrifice. She of all people would know.

"You remind me of someone I once knew," Julie said honestly. She could lie to Derek, and she had before stretched the truth. But, aside from moments driven by indignation and fury, she had never enjoyed it.

"That's funny, Aurelia Ryder," said Derek, voice not quite low gravel. "So do you."

**II. hearing**

It was his voice that arrested her, carrying through the fluttering bat's wings of Unicorn Lane at night. At least Julie had expected it. Grandmother would have called it a weakness, but then, the people that her Erra missed lay far beyond her reach, lost in the faded distance of four thousand years' time, rather than only half a city away.

When Julie heard his voice like this, calm and curious and without threat, all she could think about was what she couldn't reveal, the comfort she couldn't seek, and the home she could not yet return to.

"If your house is still standing in Unicorn Lane, it's not by coincidence."

The back of her neck prickled with awareness. She rested one hand lightly on her home's outer wall, in perfect sight, and felt less threatened than she should have with a predator at her back, not entirely due to their truce. "The Order has its perks."

"Not this one, and I _know_ you're not Order," said Derek. He had grown closer, footsteps silent, but words--and therefore his location--perfectly well telegraphed to anyone who could hear. Julie was listening with great care.

"Why are you here?" Her other hand brushed her hip, the knife tucked into her belt, then passed it by. _Here_ , outside the house, instead sitting smugly cross-legged inside, as though a gesture of respect.

There was the slightest pause.

"Ryder," said Derek. He sounded like he was tasting the word. Julie bit her lip to hide her shudder. "It's the sort of name someone chooses. I want to know the person who makes that choice, as long as you're in Atlanta."

Something sparked in the vulnerable flesh beneath her shell, in the soft places bruised long ago by longing. It was a dumb idea. Even Mom would hesitate, which was saying something. But Julie--and this, she was beginning to suspect, was the real problem when it came to Derek--couldn't help herself unless she ran away. "All right. Question for question. I won't lie, and neither will you."

"You first," said Derek. He was two steps away now, but came no nearer. Derek wasn't the sort of person to intimidate with anything but claws, words, or gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"There's something shifting in the magic that the Order knows about, tied to Pastor Haywood's death." A slight scoff. "But you're right. I'm not here for that. I'm in Atlanta because my family's connected somehow. I want to save my family."

"Huh," said Derek. "True."

"Now--my turn." If Julie could feel her heart pounding, Derek could hear it too. She concentrated on keeping everything even. Stupid, stupid, but-- "You said I remind you of someone," she said. "Who?"

There was a very, very long pause. In the distance, the bat-wings had quieted, to be replaced by the discordant chirps of insects not quite of this world, and even their song seemed to fade out into absolute, still silence.

"A friend from years ago," said Derek, a deep rumble, and although Julie still faced away from him, she could hear the wry warmth in his voice. It was almost enough to make her eyes shut again, with the same stupid longing. " _Julie_."

Her eyes did slip shut, and she forgot to check if Derek was still watching her.

**III. smell**

"There are two--stupid people here--and one of them isn't me," Julie panted, to the only other person her magical senses could pinpoint within the closest three hundred yards. She trudged her way further into the cave, where the air was still, the light faded to nearly nothing.

"Right," said Derek, who looked barely winded. Must have gained more stamina over the years. Julie had been very close to matching his burst-speed when she left, and she'd only grown in strength, but whatever had changed his body (the shoulders broader, the stance looser), had given him more endurance too. He turned his hands around, wincing as he jostled the arm that bent at _wrong_ angles, and glared pointedly at the gashed claw-marks running down both of Julie's arms and the one that cut to bone on her shin.

Julie grinned through her teeth. It was that or scream, as her flesh began the slow, inexorable march of stitching itself together. For all the bewildering regeneration magic thrumming through her sinews and veins, sometimes, the healing was worse than the wound.

"Let me bandage it up," said Derek. She hesitated, knowing he'd _see_ the wounds snapping shut faster than any human could manage. "You're leaving a scent trail. And a visual trail."

She wasn't--her jeans soaked up her blood from long years of knowing what it could reveal, her boots caught the rest--and that was why she nodded. "And here I thought you cared." And why she could tease, knowing the implication wasn't true. "The grey wolf, soft at heart?"

A slow, wry smile of acquiescence. Derek's eyes gleamed; he took a step forward, into the single patch of moonlight found its way to the cave floor, from a hole far up top.

Then he knelt down before her, to examine the gash that was the worst, the one that had struck bone at first. The way his hair brushed her knee through a tear in her jeans, as soft as a tuft of down before it faded into the bristle of adulthood, punched through her heart. And to see him like this, eyes narrow in concentration, the familiar thin network of scars, utterly intent on this one thing--it was more intimate than seeing him naked.

Derek stilled. He had seen it, how the sword that made an awful _screech_ cutting bone now appeared only to have left a parted thin layer of muscle. He stood again, much closer than before, and reached for her hands. Julie let him.

His broken arm was setting. So was the ravaged muscle of her forearms, some now appearing as nothing but broken skin, others deeper but no longer bleeding.

She inhaled a mouthful of clean forest air, breathed in the tinge of smoke, sweat, and musk. He was close enough for her to feel his warmth even where they didn't touch, and close enough to catch his scent. Her heart lurched. Traitor.

His eyes gleamed gold, like it was afternoon sunlight that slanted on its opaque surface, but unexpectedly, Derek smiled. He brought her hands close to his face and his chest expanded until they almost brushed, with his deep breath.

"One day I'll get the story of Ryder, the woman who smells like blood and magic." His smile changed, took on a soft edge. "And cheese."

She punched him in the chest, but--in the interests of mutual co-operation and the wellbeing of her blood-armour-free knuckles, his abs were like iron--not so hard he might stagger.

**IV. touch**

The grey wolf loomed over its prey, taller by over a head than a grown man standing, much less one collapsed onto his knees, bent over nursing his chest. Even so far away and surrounded by gutted enemies, Julie could hear his pained, wheezy breaths. _Stridoring breaths_ , she thought, from an airway close to swelling shut, after Derek's fist crunched at his throat.

The man could not speak, much less cast a spell, much less fight. Derek and Julie had been led by this man into an ambush, and Julie didn't much care if he lived or died. But she did care about Derek.

"He's down, Derek," she called. "No threat."

Derek ignored her. His prey glanced at her through bloodshot eyes, then flicked back to see Derek advancing again.

Julie thought about appealing to reason, but reason didn't rule during these moments, with the moon high and the night full of its daughter shadows. Not even Dad, who had introduced the absolute discipline needed to function as Pack, had complete control, much less Derek.

"Rancid meat," Julie shouted. "Disgusting. You don't want it." The grey wolf growled as though objecting. _Don't say 'I know you only want to kill him, not eat him.' Don't say the word 'kill'._ "Better to keep him alive! To toy with. Prey, not sheep."

The slightest hesitation. The grey wolf cocked its head, considering, its huge cold eyes so clear she could see the terrified face of their traitor.

Julie took the chance to come closer, reaching slowly for Derek's maw, her hands held out and empty. He loomed over her, a shadow that blocked out the sky. Derek grimaced, but she managed to touch his jaw and tilt his head until he looked up.

He stilled completely, eyes fixed on the moon, the gold obscured by the reflection of distant silver. 

"It's still there," she said, much softer now. And the denouement: "Like cheese."

Under her hand, Derek shifted, and she was holding a human jaw--warm, sharp, hard, and much too comfortable in her grasp. He nuzzled further against her palm. "Mozzarella. I told you, I hate mozzarella."

 _I told you._ An echo from half a decade ago.

"When'd you figure it out?"

He tugged one hand away and brought it to brush against his lips, then nipped her fingers, the animal behind his eyes controlled but not gone. Fuck. He'd never done that before. Julie hadn't been prepared for the rush of warmth surging through her veins, pooling at her navel, with his smile. "Another time."

They took care of the traitor first. Julie and Derek, both, were nothing if not professional.

**V. taste**

Something new and unmarred by memory: the taste of Derek's skin, his lips on hers, opening, _opening_ , long muscle body supine with his arms laid out in surrender. The moon was high in the sky, as it always was near Unicorn Lane, but they'd drawn the curtains and closed out the rest of the world. There was just this room, lantern-light golden like honey slowly warmed, sweet and thick, and Derek's chest shuddering between her thighs.

No fear and no haste, except for what lay between them. Julie's tongue explored the slick heat of his mouth without hurry, as her fingers dug into his shoulder. She nudged his bottom lip between her teeth, teasing more than anything, and he stretched one arm lazily around her waist.

"You can bite harder," Derek said, a gleam in his eye. His mouth twitched. "I won't break."

Just for that, she scratched him lightly under his rib cage, exactly where he was ticklish. He twitched and half-turned as though to throw her off, then took a slow, deep breath instead. Control, again.

"Huh," said Julie. "I'm impressed." She scratched harder, again and again, until he shied away at last, chest heaving as silent laughter fought its way out and muffled against her lips, swooped down to claim her prize.

A groan pressed into her mouth. _He_ bit, just a little, and pulled her closer with rough palms against her hips. Their mouths moved against each other, eager and slick, warmth igniting and scorching a line between her mouth, down her throat, and reaching to her naval. One of his hands came up to cup between her thighs, and she ground down against him, more than willing to ask for the touch.

"Can I--I'd like--" he paused, and pulled at her until she hovered over his mouth. He kissed her knee, then her thigh, tongue flicking out against her skin in promise.

" _Fucking yes_." She pulled his head up impatiently.

She felt his smile, even closer to where she wanted it. And then he tasted her, and she twisted her fingers in his hair, hard.

Derek seemed to take it as encouragement, or a challenge.

Either way, he rose to the occasion.

**VI. a sixth sense**

"I think the Curran-Lennart pack is standing out my door," Julie mumbled into the sinew of Derek's neck, a spark igniting in a distant--a very distant--corner of her mind. A trip-wire not only stumbled over, but stampeded out of existence.

"And?" Derek said, so low it was a rumble through his chest.

"I'm gonna go hide from Mom and Dad," said Julie. "Want to come?"

Derek heaved a long sigh of impatience. And then he fled out back with her, because whatever he pretended, he wasn't the more emotionally mature partner in this relationship either.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is never expected, but always appreciated :D


End file.
